


Colliding Chemistry

by Asorae



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Blood, But that's why we do this sorta thing., F/M, Injury, Nero is lazy and can't cook., Nero x Reader, One day I'll edit this., Oral Sex, Smut, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 21:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asorae/pseuds/Asorae
Summary: There's something really romantic about eating pasta in your roommate's tiny kitchen late at night whilst coated in demonic blood.Someone should have told Nero that.





	Colliding Chemistry

**Author's Note:**

> Nero x Reader smut. Why? Because he's hot and the people on tumblr dot com requested it like 20 times. (No really, you should see my ask box) I ran this through a few free online spellcheckers and I can't bear to look at my own writing for a second longer, so any mistakes are to be blamed on them. Darn you dodgy online spell checkers.
> 
> I listened to Superposition by Young the Giant whilst writing this, hence, shitty lyric title.

Nero never took his boots off at the door. He was just that kind of roommate. 

You hear the telltale signs that he’s home; keys jangling, the handle that squeaks a little, the quick thud of his steps as he makes a beeline toward the kitchen and to the cupboards in a blur of silver and navy. He gives you a nod and a smile as he swings open the cabinet doors, peering in to try and make a meal out of the groceries he never bothered to buy but was definitely supposed to. Dissatisfied with the nearly used up bread loaf and tossing an old packet meal that’ll never be touched into the trash, he purses his lips and tilts his head playfully, shifting his weight onto his other leg. His head whips around to face you. 

“Do we have any food?” 

You laugh; you’d been expecting this. “Check in the bottom drawer, in the fridge.”

Waltzing to the refrigerator and tugging it open, he grins from ear to ear as he pulls out a ready-made bowl of cheese-filled pasta and vegetables you’d prepared earlier. It was supposed to be tomorrow’s lunch for school, but Nero didn’t need to know. Not bothering to warm it up, he pulls the chair next to you with inhuman finesse and settles down with a heavy elegance, throwing his legs up and landing his steel-toed boots onto the table, right by your elbow. You glare, he rolls his eyes, and he swings them back down to the tiled floor where they belonged. 

“So, how was your day?” He asks, inquisitively glancing at your homework.

You huff as you tap your pencil against the paper. “Boring, I think I’m going to drop out. Social Studies and Political Science just really isn’t my calling.”

“Lemme see,” Nero leaned over his bowl to stare at the paperwork, one eyebrow raised as he struggled to make sense of it. He goes back to his bowl with a mouth full of cheesy vegetables, totally bored with the work. “Well if it all goes to shit, at least you’re hot enough to be someone’s trophy wife,” he grins without taking his eyes off of the food. 

You thump his shoulder with all the strength that you can muster with your fist and Nero snickers as your cheeks flush crimson, flustered. Nero was a flirt, sarcastic to a fault and sometimes he was just plain rude, but his good looks and ever pleasant charm meant he more often than not could get away with it. He never meant it seriously and you knew he was more after the reaction than intentionally trying to provoke you. Trying to ignore the backhanded compliment, you go back to scribbling notes. 

“What about you? How was... work.” You stumble on the last word, unsure if Nero even considers it work or just a responsibility that happens to pay well. More often than not he would make a noncommittal noise and brush off the question, which is exactly what he did. You quickly scan over his body, looking for flecks of blood or fresh grazes on his face or scuff marks along his shoulders, the telltale signs of his hellish encounters. At first, you’d never dared to bring up Nero’s so-called ‘duty’, but as long as you were roommates, it was impossible for him to hide it for too long, and he had to explain the blood-soaked bath towels eventually, considering you were the one who bought them.

The young man scratched the bridge of his nose, a consistent habit, and shrugged, making a noise in his throat which translated to boredom. 

“The usual gig. Y’know, a bit of recon, some boring lead that never seems to go anywhere, slaughtering of demonic abnormalities~” he said the last line in a sarcastic, singsong drawl, smiling as you rolled your eyes at his ever-present need to be almost unreadable when it came to his line of work. You knew what his ‘work’ was, but he didn’t ever bring it up unless you pressed particularly hard about it. Nero was in a surprisingly good mood tonight and you liked this version of him. There were times when he came home with a dark look and a quiet demeanour, his demonic arm glowing that cold, icy blue - that’s when you didn’t ask. More often than not he would walk into the apartment with ripped clothes and cuts so deep you had to plead with him to bandage them, although he never even seemed to mind, even slightly, and sometimes the cuts would heal before sunrise, no stitches needed. You never asked how or why, but the steady hot glow from his arm was enough of an answer, even though it brought up many a question itself. Somethings were better left unsaid, and in Nero’s case, it seemed to be most things.

You do another once-over of him and notice a particularly deep cut on his human hand’s palm, already healing but still pumping out a steady trickle of red, his wrist painted with specks of dried blood and dirt. Without saying anything you rise and go to the cupboard under the sink, grabbing the well-used box of bandages and antiseptic wipes and thump it down on the acrylic table.

“It’s fine,” Nero says casually aware of what you’re doing, but still too preoccupied with his food, mouth half full of pasta. 

“It’s not fine,” you counter, frowning at him. You both know it technically is ‘fine’. But the thought of the blood pooling into his sleeves made you anxious, and Nero never took care of himself enough anyway. 

You pry the bowl out of his hands and he doesn’t object, knowing his protests won’t win anyway. Pulling his hand into yours, you roll up his sleeve, revealing the vermilion cut, painful looking against his fair skin and trace your finger along it, curious but fearful of what creature might have sunk its claws into him this time. You make quick work of it, wiping away the dried blood and dirt and being extra gentle as you swipe over it with a damp cloth. Nero watches with a half-smile, his eyes flicking to look at you when your fingers ghost over a particularly tender part of his flesh, but he doesn’t wince or pull back. Despite his cool coloured skin his body seemed to radiate an intense heat, always warm no matter the time or season. 

“I think you just really like taking care of me, don’t you?” he laughs, looking up through his eyelashes smugly. As you tie the last of the thin bandages, he lightly fails his wrist, purposefully making it difficult in an attempt to make you laugh. Smiling, you hold his wrist in place and he sulks jokingly, giving in as you give the neat bow one last tug. 

“I think you just like the attention,” you quip back, patting his wrist to show him that you’re finished and return his smug gaze with a fake glare.

Nero lets his hand rest against yours for a second, and you don’t know why he does. His knuckles brush against your fingers, almost as if he's daring to intertwine them but you pull away before he can, unsure of the vibe he’s giving off. It’s hard to tell if it’s playful or something else. You dare to look up at him, and his face is unreadable. Gentle; but there’s something in his eyes that makes your stomach do little flips and make your mouth go dry. 

 

You can’t help but think, and not for the first time, he really is nice to look at, the intensity of blue in his stare, his chiselled jawline, his hair like feathered white snow that feathers out when he runs a hand through it. Sometimes when he’s deep in thought, like now, his salt and pepper brows furrow together and he’ll run his tongue along his lips. You let your eyes follow down from his jaw to his collar bones, adjourned by the tight muscles that make up his broad shoulders, well-built from his days of swinging around weapons probably twice your weight. You resist thinking about the way his necklace falls in the centre of his pectorals, the silver glinting in the dim light escaping into the kitchen. 

You force yourself to your feet, determined to clear your head a little. The room is breezy in the coolness of night, the window above the counter slightly ajar, but the air between you both feels humid like you can feel an inviting heat on your skin that certainly wasn’t there before. Nero is still looking at you, gauging your reaction, his lips pursed together. You grab the bowl and head for the sink, frustrated at yourself for giving into a simple infatuation that likely wouldn't be reciprocated. Nudging the awning window open a few inches more, you begin to feign washing up, irritated at yourself, unsure of your own thoughts and why your brain can’t stop thinking about Nero’s stupid pretty blue eyes. 

You’re never quite sure what to make of Nero sometimes. He can be cool and cynical one moment, but then soft and sweet, sympathetic to a stranger when most people would turn a blind eye. He's a mix of strong and gracious, kind yet disobedient, standoffish but seductive. It almost feels like he’s testing you in these moments when you’re truly alone together, tempting you to say or do something, but you force yourself to be distracted by anything but him, which right now is a mug that’s already been cleaned but you don’t care enough to do anything. You hear Nero sigh as he stands, and then, in a few short paces, he’s behind you.

“Hey.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper, pleading a little. “Can you look at me for a second?”

The question comes out as a whisper, and you turn to look him straight in the eye, nervous to see what emotion might be behind them. He looks scared, but determined, like there are words hidden behind his tongue, held back by stubbornness and uncertainty. It's cold in the room now but you can still feel the warmth radiating from him like a fire and you resist the urge to reach out and touch him. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat from his skin, then the blue light that constantly emits from his arm suddenly dulls, then illuminates to a soft saffron yellow, dousing you both in a warm glow. 

Nero takes another daring step closer, closing the distance between you, the edge of his boots nudging against your feet accidentally but he barely notices. Your heart starts working a little harder and your brain goes into overdrive as it screams at you, this is it, it’s happening. His face, so often frowning in a scowl or sneering sarcastically is for once easy and soft, almost kind. You notice a tiny scar above his eyebrow that you’ve never seen before, only visible this close up. You take a chance to reach up and run a finger along the scar hesitantly, and then glide your hand down, letting it rest alongside his face, and his own hand comes up to hold your palm against his cheek. Talon-like fingers weave in between yours and the yellow glow illuminating in the room intensifies. The talons are surprisingly blunt and the scales are smooth and cool against the heat radiating from your face. Everything is hot all of sudden and it feels like someone has snatched the air from your lungs, your vision hazy and blurred almost as you try to make sense in your mind of what’s happening. 

Nero’s other hand makes its way around your waist, the temperature spreading along your lower back, his other hand lets go of yours to lift your chin toward his face. The sudden flush of warmth makes you shudder a little. You swallow out of nervousness and try to remember how breathing works whilst he pulls you a little closer, barely a few inches apart. Pressed up against him you can feel the firmness of his chest against yours and the sensation makes it hard to look back at him, his eyes that piercing blue that always made you feel unsteady when he looked at you for too long now peering into yours.

“Is this okay?” His voice barely above a whisper.

You nod.

His eyes close halfway, his face suddenly a lot closer, and he leans in. You can feel the heat radiating off of his face, the slight quickness in his breath. The edges of his opalescent hair tickle your forehead. His lips ghost across yours. Then, pulling you in even more-so to his chest, he presses his mouth against yours. Even though you know it’s coming, the contact nearly makes you gasp; as you relax into the kiss you let a little sigh escape from your mouth. The kiss is soft and careful, and as your mind races and your heart seems to beat a million times a minute but somehow stop at the same time, your arms make their way to his shoulders, holding onto him as the faint dizziness blossoms into pure bliss.

Nero smiles as you let out another light sigh and takes it as a sign to pull you even closer. You move your hand up to his neck, his pulse hard and steady against your palm, and your other hand settles on his shoulder. Your legs feel numb and light, and you’re grateful for the arm around your back, feeling lightheaded as Nero deepens the kiss. The feeling is almost paralyzing. It feels eerily familiar to be like this with him, almost as though you’ve done this a thousand times, like two long lovers who have known each other a lifetime. You move one hand up into his hair and Nero takes his own hand from your lower back and slides it to your hip. His hips feel dangerously close to yours and your mind goes wild with the thought of it. His thumb dares to tug ever-so-slightly at your waistband, teasing but careful, a slight smirk against your lips, relishing in your little gasps as your fingers grasp on his hair.

The idea of his hand so close makes you giddy, leaving an intense heat in the pit of your stomach. You care about Nero, and you’d like to think he feels the same about you, but this is something beyond caring that you don’t tempt to put into words. Your brain goes into overdrive, all this time trying to push those temptations aside, only for him to be the one to initiate something so suddenly. That tension that had been building for weeks between you like a string that's been pulled tight has finally snapped under the weight of pure want and suddenly the thought of the only a few pieces of fabric between your skin drives you insane. Your hand on his shoulder instinctively tugs on his jacket and he quickly gets the message. Nero breaks the contact for a second and sheds it quickly, letting it drop to the tiled kitchen floor, then cups your face and comes back for another kiss. 

The second kiss is more hasty, needy. Your breath catches as you try and keep up and you can feel him growing more desperate by the second as he presses himself closer. There’s an intenseness behind it that wasn’t there before and you can sense it as he runs his hands along your waist, the talon-like nails scratching, leaving little prickly lesions on your skin. Nero holds your waist close as you continue to let your lips move across his, barely suppressing a little growl that dares to escape his throat. He pulls off and gently kisses your cheek and along your jaw, letting his lips hover against your ear, and you can feel the heat of his breath slightly tickling dangerously on your skin.

“Are you sure this is okay?” His voice is like velvet, smooth against your ear, caressing with each syllable. 

“Yes,” you gasp, a little breathless from the kiss but still somehow needing more. “Do you wanna go upstairs?” 

The words slip out before you can really stop them. The confidence surprises you and also Nero, but it leaves the trace of a smile across both of your faces as seemingly forbidden thoughts flood your brain.

“Sure. Your place or mine?” He jokes, planting a final kiss on your cheek as you laugh and takes your hand, stepping over his discarded jacket. You move swiftly through the hallway and he leads you to the stairs; you both move quickly, laughing as Nero trips up on his own feet and almost falls into the bannister, giddy with excitement. 

Reaching his room, just before yours and opposite the bathroom, you think of all the times you’ve accidentally (maybe on purpose) watched him head for the shower, catching a glimpse of skin as he would shed his blood covered clothes after ‘work’. He flicks on a small table lamp, barely brightening the surprisingly tidy room, a pair of boots and other various clothes in a small pile by the generously sized bed. The room is painted a deep sea blue, with a set of neon lights illuminating one wall, with grey and navy sheets lining the bed. Nero had insisted on getting himself a huge bed after years of being ‘cooped up in some lousy dump’ in a shop somewhere just outside of Redgrave. You had helped him (more likely hindered) pull the mattress upstairs and pick out the bedding when you'd first become roommates. 

Nero lets go of your hand and awkwardly looks at the bed like it’s a vaguely complicated puzzle he doesn't quite know how to solve and suddenly you realise he’s nervous, his shoulders deflating a little. He bites his lip and looks at you, his eyes adorably wide and questioning.

“Take off your boots,” you instruct, laughing, again surprising yourself at the sudden authority in yourself, slipping your own shoes off and kicking them across the floor. Nero raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything and then seats himself on the bed, using his feet to toe off his boots. He watches you as you stand across from him for a second, then reaches out to pull you to him, a slight smile gracing his face, his confidence back. You step forward and settle snugly in between his legs, letting your hand fall onto his shoulders. You stroke the curve of his collarbone as Nero’s hands slip up to your thighs eagerly. He tugs you closer to him.

Nero kisses you. 

This time it’s slow, tender and sweet. It’s careful; like he’s scared you might suddenly slip from his grasp and shatter. Each movement feels calculated and gentle, every step planned as if he has dreamt this moment over and over and he can’t afford it to go wrong. You realise the hesitancy from earlier isn’t exactly nervousness; it’s uncertainty. He’s gauging your reaction, being sure not to move too fast, still unsure if you’re really okay with this. Determined to prove him wrong, you climb into his lap with your knees snug on either side of his hips, being sure not to break the kiss. The weight of you in his lap entices you to wrap your arms around his neck, wrapped up in him as you’ve thought of doing so many times but not dared to think would happen. You can hear his shallow breath escape his lips, his shoulders slowly rising in anticipation and want, his calloused hands wandering as the kiss intensifies.

You lean back from the kiss for a second to pull your shirt over your head and it lands somewhere on the floor. Nero hastily does the same with his tattered maroon sweater, leaving only the thin fabric of his white t-shirt between you both as you dive back into another embrace, prickly heat on your skin intensified as he runs his fingers carefully along your back, almost breathlessly kissing you back. 

Nero reaches under your legs and stands, lifting you up with him to wrap them around his waist, then turns, pushing you back gently onto the bed. You lean back on your elbows to look at him and your first thought is how badly you want him out of the rest of those clothes, feeling vulnerable in your jeans and bra. As if you had spoken out loud, his fingers reach for the hem of his white tee and he flicks it up over his head in one swift motion, tossing it into the darkness behind him. You dare to take a moment to admire the broadness of his shoulders, the build of his chest and the hard, lean muscles on that make up his abs. Faint scars and nicks line his skin like harsh words against white paper. Again your eyes dart to his midriff, tight and chiselled from throwing himself around on his everyday so-called battlefield and you can’t stop thinking about how nice it would be to run your hands down his torso, fingers lingering on that deep V shape that leads down oh-so teasingly. Around you, his devilish arm leaves the bedroom in a pleasant, angelic glow, mixing in with the blue of the neon light.

Nero moves forward onto the bed, holding himself above you with a single hand and makes quick work of your belt and jeans with the other, tugging them off in one swift motion down your thighs and off your ankles. His cerulean eyes gaze across your body as the cool air sinks into your skin and a wave of heat flushes across your face. Leaving you in your underwear, Nero leans over and plants both hands on either side of your head and hovers above you, gazing down with his ice blue eyes that seem to glow in the barely-there light. He suddenly dips his head and places his lips to your forehead, and you swear you can feel your heart swell a little at the innocence of the gesture. Then he gives a peck to the tip of your nose and then plants a soft, chaste kiss on your lips and you can’t help but giggle at him, his sweetness showing through despite his usually tough demeanour. He pulls back and smiles at you, using a single talon to push a few stray hairs from your face. Gentle hands reach up to hold his face and you pull him back down to you, catching the warmth of his mouth again, desperate for him to take your breath away as he does to you so easily. The kiss is hard, and his tongue is suddenly pushing against the brim of your mouth and you let him in without hesitation, eager to feel every inch of him as he lowers himself onto you, the combined pressure of his body against yours and the feel of his wet tongue makes you want to scream with anticipation. You breathlessly kiss him back, overwhelmed with the feeling, letting him take over as your mind floods with the thought of him pressed so, so close, and you moan, your body reacting instinctively. 

Nero pulls off and sits back on his heels, taking you in, watching your chest rise and fall as you pant slowly, face pink, lips red. Animalistic almost. He gives you a look; a look that makes it seem as if he wants to take you right now, give into instinct, delve into you and feel you from the inside, make you feel things you’ve never thought possible. You knew Nero wasn’t human, at least not completely. It was obvious enough, what with his devil bringer at his side, and yet, Nero never seemed to let it bother him. He gave you no reason to question or fear his demonic powers so you never dared ask, but now it was obvious that it despite all this, he was still afraid of his own strength. He runs a hand through his short hair and takes a breath, still entranced by your body underneath his, his eyes overcome with lust.

You sit up and pull him back down to you once more, hands caressing his back as you kiss him again, fingers gently touching the nape of his neck, determined to reassure him. He relaxes and sighs into the kiss, which gradually turns into a deep, feral moan that provokes a certain feeling between your legs. Shifting his weight slightly, Nero manages to pull off his own jeans and shimmy out of them, and then he’s over you, using his demonic arm to hold himself up, his knee nudging between your thighs, tormentingly close as his hand makes its way along your hip. Soft lips find themselves on your neck, light kisses that tickle a little at first, then soon become more keen, leaving faint red traces you know you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. His hand slipping under your back, you wiggle upwards and he unclasps your bra and it disappears off the side of the bed as his teeth nip teasingly on the most sensitive parts of your skin, almost enough to hurt but not quite.

“Nero,” you’re barely able to speak clearly as you hiss his name through clenched teeth; he laughs under his breath and plants a kiss on your cheek, holding it there for a moment.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispers with his lips pressed up close to your ear like he almost doesn’t want you to hear, then goes back to your mouth and kisses you like it’s the first time again. It’s sweet but has a hint of desperation, and you can’t help but nip at his bottom lip, urging him to alleviate the pressure building inside you. His knee slyly nudges it’s way further to your more sensitive area, making you shiver and grab onto him a little tighter. Nero seems to take notice as he kisses you slower, letting you enjoy the pressure between your legs he's created as his hand slithers down to your underwear, slipping a single talon into the elastic.

He looks to you for permission and you nod, impatient, words failing you as you long to feel him. Without warning he snaps the fabric from your skin in one swift motion, flicking it to the side without a second thought, leaving you completely naked with the only thing keeping you warm being the devil himself, who is currently eagerly shifting himself lower down the bed. Nero refuses to break eye contact as his head moves past your stomach and dips towards your inner thighs, a glint of mischief reflecting back.

“Nero, are you sure?” even though you’ve never wanted him to do something so badly in your whole life.

Nero answers by intertwining your fingers with his devil bringer and the other hand pushing your leg to the side whilst pressing a single kiss to your inner thigh. It’s chaste and tender, yet your thoughts as the blood pumps through your ears and down between your legs as you feel that familiar wetness are anything but pure. You close your eyes and breathe deep, your mind running a million miles a minute as it debates whether or not you should be letting this happen, and then a single finger is pressed against your folds and all you can think about is how much you want this. Suddenly, every self-indulgent daydream of the silver-haired man you’ve ever indulged in comes to life, but it’s a thousand times better than you could’ve ever, ever imagined. You hold a moan as he slips the first inch of his finger in, then deeper down to his knuckles and try to steady yourself, almost embarrassed at how quickly you come undone. 

“Oh god,” you whimper, voice cracking in the silence. His finger pulls out slowly, letting you revel at the feeling for a second before stopping. Adding another finger, he presses deep into you again, and your hand begins curling around his scaled arm, the other hand loosely gripping the covers. Nero starts moving his fingers at an almost painfully slow pace so as to let you feel every motion, his eyes trained on you. You purposefully hold back your heavy breathing, determined to show him you can handle more than a bit of friction, but those long, hard months of longing and thoughts of him against you arise, your hips begin moving without your permission, desperate. A single whimper escapes and you give in as he slides down to his knuckles once more and then draws back out slowly, again and again. Nero increases the pace enough to have you on the edge, your hips lifting off of the bed slightly, his other hand holding your wrist in place. He curls his fingers ever so slightly and presses in just the right spot, and then your resolve falters. You give in completely, letting yourself moan as he pumps slowly in and out of you, feeling the wetness and heat spread against your folds, tight and hot against him. You don’t dare to look down, worried that Nero will take it as a sign to push you over the edge; this isn’t something you’re willing to rush through, you think. But you can feel that bundle of nerves getting tighter and-

Without warning, Nero stops, purposefully leaving you on the edge of pleasure. He frees both his hands and takes hold of your thighs, pulling your hips harshly toward him with a smirk, a vaguely cocky look sitting pretty on his face as he licks his lips menacingly. You stare back, panting, furious that he would rob you of your climax so cruelly, and then you remember that Nero is a cocky, sometimes arrogant, infuriating asshole when he wants to be. 

“Why the glare?” he asks, feigning innocence like he didn’t just almost make you come on his fingers.

“Oh, fuck you, Nero.”

The cocky, arrogant, infuriating, but kind of beautiful asshole laughs and presses a quick kiss to your thigh. 

“I’ll make it up to you, promise.” He taunts. 

Nero kisses your thighs again, alternating between the two, slowly moving lower and closer, teasing you again. Every now and then he squeezes with both hands, threatening to leave bruises and dainty claw marks, even allowing his tongue to trace hot, wet patterns on your skin as your breathing gets faster. You buck your hips up towards him, urging him to hurry up and do something, anything, to ease the feeling of want. Always eager to charm, Nero looks up at your through his eyelashes as he presses the lightest possible kiss to your folds that sends shivers down your spine before his tongue works it’s way in between, firm but gentle. First, just the tip of his tongue tickles, but as he watches your chest rise and fall, eyes half closed with lust, he gives in and slowly draws his tongue up, then down, then up again. You gasp and he chuckles slightly - you can feel the air escape from his mouth - but he doesn’t slow down, his hands still tight on your thighs to keep you steady. Nero picks up the pace as your breathing again quickens, his tongue flickering and dancing up and down as your orgasm begins to peak again. Trying to suppress a moan, your hands find their way into his hair just to relieve the urge to touch him somehow and you regret ever letting him cut his hair short as the white strands weave into your grasp. Nero takes it as a cue to speed up and dares to tease your clit although only for a second but its still enough to make you jump and tighten the grip on his hair, and he digs his fingers into your thigh almost painfully, knowingly leaving you wanting for more. You whisper a desperate ‘please’, barely audible against your hurried breaths as he relentlessly circles around your clit before delving back in with diligence, hot and wet, spurred on by your pleading. Practically whining underneath Nero’s constant motions, you roll your hips further toward him, disregarding your pride and silently demanding him to finish you off as you throb against the heat of his tongue. Nero, ever self-righteous, notices the increase in your shaky gasps and stops, leaving you once again on the edge.

You sit up in frustration, trying to resist the urge to scream and the look on his face his almost gleeful as he slides a thumb across the corner of his mouth, eagerly smiling back, knowing that he has you exactly where he wants you. As you stare at him incredulously, you realise that Nero very much likes having dominance over you and this teasing is likely to carry on.

"You're an asshole." you utter, torn between laughing along with him or ripping off his head.

"I like taking my time. Besides, you're fun to play with." he purrs. He smirks smugly for a moment then his eyes soften, his fingers rubbing small circles on your inner thighs. Nero sits up again and moves back over to you for a kiss. As you wrap your arms around his shoulders you both settle into the kiss, lips sliding back and forth over one another as his hands move gently up and down your hip and down your thighs, fingers lingering every now and then as you both take a moment to get your breath back. You can feel Nero smiling into the kiss and he pulls back to run his hand over your cheek, pushing your hair back from your face, eyes boring into yours with the intensity of a thousand suns. Both of you take a moment, his legs wrapped up in yours, your breasts heaving against his bare chest as you try to get your breath back after his previous assault on your body, desperate to feel him down there again. Quickly realising the best way to communicate is through actions and not words with the half devil, you slide your hand down onto his stomach, along his abs and down to the edge of his black boxers. You let your fingers tickle the elastic before moving to palm his cock through his shorts. Already half hard, Nero gasps and hides his face in the shallow of your neck, his breathing shallow on your collar bone. He whispers a quiet “fuck” as you continue the gentle caress, his length stiffening in your hand slowly. Watching his once snarky, overconfident demeanour disappear at you touch only spurs you on more, desperate to have him once and for all. Suddenly gaining back his resolve, Nero shifts to his side and uses his knee to shift your legs apart, sliding off his boxers, his stiff cock emerging from the black fabric.

He manages to wiggle the boxers off his hips and casts them to side, then turns his attention back to you, eyes eager with a semi-serious smile gracing his pink lips, glistening and wet as his tongue darts out to slick them. 

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, voice deep and husky as his fingers creep their way back down between your legs tantalisingly, almost making you whimper in desperation. He presses a few quick kisses to your neck.

“You, just you,” you answer honestly, unsure of what to say exactly but wanting desperately to feel him before your heart bursts from your chest from anticipation.

Nero smiles against the inner of your neck, a faint chuckle escaping his lips as he pulls you against him, his skin hot on yours. 

“I think I can manage that.” he drawls, each syllable dripping off of his tongue like sweet syrup.

The silver-haired man shifts himself above you, your legs on either side of his hips, thighs parted, his hands gripping them tightly as he positions himself carefully. Leaning over you, propped up on his elbows, Nero nudges his tip at your entrance teasingly, breathing in slightly as he feels your heat and wetness against his dick. With a final steadied breath, he edges himself in, holding in a moan as the heat engulfs his first few inches. Your own gasp escapes slowly, a mix of surprise and pleasure at the feeling of his thickness, just barely stretching you. Looking up to gauge his reaction, you see Nero's eyes are half-lidded, overcome with lust as he barely holds himself up. He breathes out steadily and smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to your mouth as he allows you to adjust to his size. You shift slightly underneath him, the thought of his cock filling you making you wetter than ever, and Nero gets the message.

Ever so slowly he moves his hips forward and pushes himself in just halfway, revelling in your reaction as your hand grasps his arm to steady yourself. His length is just thick enough to force you to take your time, just enough to make you beg for more as you whimper underneath him, desperate to take him in fully and feel every inch of him. After watching you writhe beneath him, Nero dares to slide himself in further, and the way you grip his bicep is enough to let him know to keep going. He pulls back, then forces himself in with an agonisingly slow thrust, each inch of his cock moving deeper inside you, making the air disappear from your lungs as he buries himself in you fully. You moan loudly, unable to hold back as the part-demon leans down to kiss your neck, sucking on the skin slightly to bruise you. 

Nero nuzzles into your neck, letting his lips ghost over the tender skin as he moves back and forth, letting himself slowly come undone with each thrust. As he slowly picks up the pace you can’t help but hiss out his name as he rocks himself into you, sliding in and out in a perfect rhythm, grasping onto him with both hands, frantic to feel him deeper somehow. Spurred on by the sound of his own name from your lips he thrusts harder, increasing the depth as he fucks into you, mind clouded with lust. He whispers your name again and again like a mantra, a sacred word he cannot utter too loudly, becoming more urgent with each moment. Rolling your hips towards him to allow him more access, Nero comes down to kiss you, hot and wet and wanting, his tongue delving into your mouth, messy and needy as he thrusts, each movement harder than the last. You run your hands through his feather-like hair and press a kiss to his neck, and his movements become deeper as he plants one hand on the headboard to steady himself, which creaks mercifully against his strength. 

You dare to look up at Nero and his face is overcome with pure lust, his eyes now a dark blue in the neon light, white hair creating a soft halo around his face, cheeks flushed. Your own breathing becomes hurried as that familiar tight feeling rears itself in the pit of your abdomen, Nero's cock moving slickly in and out of your core with ease, pumping faster as his own orgasm threatens to appear. You can sense it, that tight throbbing against his length and you throw your head back into the pillow as you feel yourself clench down on him, hips rolling up into his. Nero rocks against you, matching the pace of your hips as you ride out the orgasm and the very feeling of you coming on him is almost enough to push him over the edge. He forcibly slows himself as your breathing begins to return to normal, heartbeat steadying as your grasp on him softens, chest heaving against his own.

He once again comes down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, smiling as you wrap your hands around his shoulders and neck. He can hear the rhythmic tempo of your blood in your veins, your climax now diminishing, but his own hardness is still very much present inside you. Fully aware of this, you roll your hips at him suggestively, insinuating for him to carry on. Nero lets out a chuckle.

"Someones eager."

"You feel good," you reply honestly, and the compliment goes straight to Nero's ego as his eyes light up considerably.

You run a hand along his shoulders, fingertips tracing the part where his human skin meets his darker toned flesh, tiny blue veins lining the joint of his shoulder blades. Nero's eyes shift to the side uncomfortably, awaiting a comment that never comes, then holds his breath as you press a gentle kiss to his shoulder. He buries his face once again in the join of your neck and shoulder, the heat from his face prickly against your skin. He stays there for a second before pressing a kiss there, then dares to let his tongue dart out to lap at the sensitive skin on your neck. You moan instinctively, your head dropping back down to the pillow, still on a high. Before you know it Nero is moving his hips, desire to relieve himself taking over again. A few tender flicks of his hips gets him going again, and and you lightly dig your fingers into his shoulder blades, urging him to increase the pace. Nero gets the message, his own ache for sweet release forcing him closer to the edge his previous orgasm rearing its head as he feels himself stiffen.

"Oh fuck-" the expletive escapes before he can stop it, Nero's head drops as he pumps into you again. You gasp as he thrusts  
particularly hard, his hips snapping up into you animalisticly, desperately craving that sweet spot. As you hold onto his shoulders, legs wrapped firmly around his hips, Nero moans loudly, his pants getting increasingly faster as his blue eyes begin to cloud over with passion. You press a few kisses to a spot just by his ear, urging him to come. As if on command, he stiffens suddenly Nero shouts your name into the night, his own breath choking him as you feel the hot sensation shooting up into you, filling you completely. The last few thrusts make your eyes roll back into your head as you clench down onto him, the orgasm taking you by surprise as you moan against his broad shoulders.

You both stay there for a moment, skin slick with sweat and lust, taking one another in, basking in the afterglow of sex. Nero is the first to move, groaning slightly as he pulls you both apart and moving to rest next to you. You stare up to the ceiling, air barely back in your lungs when Nero nudges his face against your cheek. Turning your head to face him, he brings a hand up to hold your face and kisses you, lips kind and firm against your swollen ones. He smiles into the kiss. With the little energy you have left, you turn the rest of you body to face him and he throws his devilish arm across you, its yellow light still barely there. With a light kiss to your forehead, you smile and nuzzle in closer to him, the heat from his body sending you into a sleepy haze, the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a dreamlike state. With a final sigh, Nero's own eyes close as he lets exhaustion take him, and sleep takes over, the gentle glow of demonic energy blossoming across the walls as the two of you relax into bliss, and Nero reminds himself to let you help with minor injuries more often.


End file.
